Human
by ironbutterfly25
Summary: She was first revolted at the sight of him. He hated her for that. She now wanted to care for him. He acted like it was too late. But all he really yearned for all those years was his mother. Set in either CoLS or CoHF. Jonathan and Jocelyn interaction.
1. Chapter 1

I've finished reading The Mortal Instruments books and the Infernal Devices books as well. *sigh* Seriously that cliffhanger in CoFA is TOO MUCH. I can't stop thinking about what will happen in CoLS and the teasers are not helping. I must say Jonathan Morgenstern is one of my favorite characters. Maybe he's second to Jace. I just can't help it feeling for him knowing that he's a dark character and I like dark characters. Also I can't help it but to hope that he'll want to establish back his humanity at some point in the series. He was not able to choose if he wanted to be part demon or not when he was a baby so I guess maybe he can try to be more human at some point.

Anyway reading the teasers for CoLS make me want to write fics involving him so here is the first one. Sorry for any grammatical errors. English is not my first language honestly but I'm trying! XD

**Disclaimer:** Mortal Instruments and Infernal Devices series and their characters solely belong to Cassandra Clare.

**Summary:** Blood ties may not be as strong as love ties but they are still strong enough. Jonathan and Clarissa Morgenstern have a little moment. Set during City of Lost Souls. Oneshot.

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><p><strong>Human<br>**

Clarissa Fairchild lies awake in bed. So many things have been happening in her life for the past months that she wonders when everything will finally settle down. Her green eyes which look a lot darker right now because of the lack of lighting in the room she is in stare at the ceiling above her. She studies the meaningless lines on the wood which are the product of old age. There are thick cobwebs adorning the corners of the ceiling. A small shift of the warm body lying next to her distracts her from her musings. She cranes her neck a bit to see her only love sleeping peacefully right beside her.

Her eyes take in his beautiful features and under the soft light of the moon, he looks more ethereal. Jace Lightwood shifts a little more before settling contentedly on the old bed they are currently lying on. Clary cannot help it but to notice how relax Jace looks. Just days ago, he was looking so pale and thin like something was draining his life source. The shadows under his eyes were so prominent. And he could barely stand being close to her. He couldn't even look at her because of his fear that his nightmares of him killing her might turn into a reality. But right now, there is no trace of any fear on his face. His light golden eyebrows are relaxed. His long eyelashes brush the flawless skin of his cheeks gently. His lips slightly parted as he breathes. He looks like nothing can disturb him anymore.

Before she knows it, Clary already has her hand stroking his silky golden locks. A small smile creeps up her face as she pulls herself closer to him. She presses a gentle kiss on his forehead before her eyes wander down his shirtless body. She instantly has the urge to touch and admire his strong muscles but her eyes lock on that ugly mark on his chest. Her eyes look at it coldly. She places her hand lightly on top of the rune and she feels the strong beating of Jace's heart there. Her fingers trace over the mark and she resists the urge to rake her nails over it. She wants to claw this demonic mark off of the skin of the boy she loves. This mark that taints him. She wants to get rid of it so badly but knows that she cannot really do anything right now.

She moves away from Jace and slips out of the bed as quietly as she can. She thinks that no matter how quietly she moves Jace will still be awaken by her but to her surprise; he continues to sleep there like a baby. She moves towards the door, not bothering to put more clothes on considering she's just in a gray cotton shorts and white tee. She does not bother to put more clothes on but she grabs her own stele and a dagger before she opens the door quietly. Clary manages to leave the room undetected by Jace. She lets out a sigh of relief once she's out in the dark corridor of the abandoned house they are currently in.

She doesn't waste any time. She starts walking. The old floorboards whine under her weight every once and a while as she makes her way towards the room at the end of the hallway. Despite the night being chilly, her palms begin to sweat and she adjusts her hold on the dagger in her right hand. She stops in front of a dusty white door. She uses her left hand with the stele in it to turn the knob. She winces as the door gives an eerie creak as it opens.

Her eyes quickly scan the room. It does not look that different from the bedroom she's staying in with Jace. She does not have to look for long though since **_he_** is just lying there on the bed and he is the sole reason she has brought herself in this room. He is wearing a clean white shirt and black pants. His silvery blonde locks of hair almost blend in with the color of the pillow he is lying on. His eyes are closed but she knows better. She knows that he is not asleep. He will not… He will never put himself in such a vulnerable position especially with her around. She takes a step forward. Her bare foot barely makes a sound on the floor this time. He does not move.

Clary swallows as she boldly takes more steps towards the bed where her brother is lying on. She is soon hovering next to him but still he does not make any move to show that he is very aware of her presence. Clary raises the dagger in her hand. Her green eyes lock on his handsome face.

An image flashes in her mind that makes her hand shake. An image of her sketching her dark prince. An image of her hand moving delicately over her sketchpad and drawing fine lines that define the sharp features of her tragic prince. She didn't know back then that she was drawing the face of her own brother. Is it really possible to have such strong connection even if they never saw each other before? When she first met him he was not really his true self. He was Sebastian Verlac at that time, she thought that his beauty was so elegant but the man lying before her right now is her real brother, Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern. He might have the real color of his hair right now but the elegance in his features still reminds her of the dark tragic prince of her imagination.

Her prince is cursed. Everyone he loves will die and this leads him to live a lonely life. Clary realizes something. Her prince and her brother have more things in common than their features. They both didn't have a choice. Her prince never wanted to be cursed. Her brother… She is sure… didn't have any choice. How could a helpless baby even have a choice? Something twists inside her that makes her want to cry. It is true that Jonathan does not have any fault if his own father wanted to make a demon out of his own son.

_It will burn out his humanity…_

She remembers what that Greater Demon, Lilith, had said. Clary cannot help it but to wonder if Jonathan even tried to fight for the little humanity he has in him or it was simply hard to fight off what you really are. An image of her mother crying over a box with the initials _J.C._ engraved on it while clutching a lock of silvery blonde hair in her hands enters her mind. She remembers that time in Alicante when her mother told her how horrified she was when she first saw Jonathan's eyes. She remembers when Jocelyn said that she couldn't stand holding the baby.

It must be really terrifying. Clary thinks. But she cannot help it but to feel pity for her brother who was hated by his own mother because she could not accept what Valentine did to her baby. Clary slowly puts the dagger down. She cannot explain why she's having these thoughts right now. She wonders what could have happened if her mother was able to get Jonathan first before Valentine did. She thinks that maybe Jonathan can fight off the demon blood running inside him if he had the chance to live a secured life with his mother and sister. Clary chews on her lower lip. Sweat adorns her forehead. Her heart is pounding loudly against her ribcage. Why is she feeling these family ties with Jonathan right now? She didn't even feel anything when Valentine died before her and he was her father. He gave life to her but she didn't feel anything when he passed on.

But now as she stares at Jonathan, her mind conjures up images of what could have been, of her small self running after a little boy slightly bigger than her. Big smiles on their faces. She imagines him helping her up whenever she trips. Just like that time yesterday when he saved her from that demon. Strength seems to slip away from her body. She stifles a gasp when Jonathan's eyes flutters open and she finds herself looking down at dark eyes. His deep black eyes seem to have the power to pull her in. She feels like she will drown in them if she won't be able to make herself pull away. For a moment, there's a look of surprise on his face or maybe it is amusement.

Jonathan moves slowly and sits upright. He eyes the dagger in her right hand in a bored way. Before he looks up to see her face again.

"I'm kind of surprised to find you here, sister. Were you watching me sleep? Of course not right?" He has a cruel smile on his face right now. Clary grasps the dagger in her hand tighter.

"Y-You weren't sleeping… I know you knew I'm here…" Clary says and curses herself when she stammers.

"I was sleeping… But yes, I sensed you coming in here. But that didn't surprise me… It made me wonder what you were doing standing beside my bed for an awfully long time… I couldn't seem to convince myself that you were only admiring me." Clary manages to glare at him. The smile on Jonathan's face widens as he senses her anger towards him. They stay there motionless for a few moments before Jonathan makes a move to take the dagger from her hand. He intentionally moves slowly enough for her to react just in time. Clary moves as a reflex and she cuts his hand accidentally in the process. She gasps in surprise as blood seeps out of his wound. Jonathan regards his wound in an uncaring manner.

Clary cannot believe it. But she felt something the moment she realized she has cut him. It's a feeling close to... fear. Fear that she could have hurt him more than she intended to and it's not because she could have also hurt Jace. Is it really possible for her to feel these emotions for him after everything he has done?

"You have come here to kill me right?" Clary wonders if it's possible for his already dark eyes to turn darker but she's already pretty convinced that they just did turn a shade darker as he looks deep into her eyes.

"Kill me, little sister. Kill me and you kill Jace, too." There are no open windows but Clary can almost feel a cold harsh wind blowing against her when Jonathan has said that. She already knows that horrible fact. But she still comes here. Why did she come here? She knows she can't kill Jonathan.

He sees that she will make no more move to harm him so he just let her stand there like a statue while he grabs for a stele to heal his wound. Clary watches him heal himself and she remembers again that time when he saved her from a demon. She asked him why he did it and he simply said that it was because she's his sister.

Clary suddenly feels very tired and yet she doesn't have the will to walk out of the room. She sits on the edge of his bed carefully. Her back turned on him. She thinks that he can easily stab her but she knows he won't do it. She is just not sure why he won't kill her considering the fact that nothing bad will happen to him if he gets rid of her. It's not like Jace will be in his right mind to avenge her now that Jace is under Jonathan's full influence.

"What are you planning to do?" She asks.

"Nothing of importance that you should know…" He says. He is now sitting on the other side of the bed. He is looking out the window, watching the starless night sky.

"Do… Do you want to see Mom?" Clary cannot believe herself that she's asking Jonathan such questions. But she cannot deny the small hope in her heart. No matter how many times she reminds herself that this is the boy responsible for Max Lightwood's and many more innocent people's deaths, she cannot seem to find the resolve to hurt him in some way right now. He being tied to Jace is not really the reason why she feels this way and she knows it.

"I was able to see her when Father was keeping her…" Clary is surprised when he answered her even if his answer is not really the proper answer to her previous question.

"D-Do you hate her?" Clary thinks that it's just her imagination when she felt him stiffen. He suddenly laughs. And it's not the kind of laugh that will make you want to laugh along. It sounds eerie and it sends chills down her spine. She doesn't bother to look at him though.

"She's the one who hated me first. She didn't want me. She was horrified of what I have become. I bet she thought of throwing me away. I often wondered why she didn't just kill me if she couldn't stand me so much. It's not like she had put so much effort on trying to love me…" Clary can feel the hatred in his voice no matter how monotonous he sounded. But the hatred in his words is not the one that made her heart twist painfully in her chest. It's the longing and sadness in them.

"I hate her." He sounds dangerous and deadly but Clary doesn't flinch at his words. She can't seem to blame him for feeling that way. She wonders what is worse. Having your mother die or having to know your mother didn't want you at all? Even hated you… But then she remembers how Jocelyn would cry over that lock of blonde hair.

"She cries over a lock of your hair every year during your birthday…" She says softly and feels him shrug.

"It's not me she's mourning for. It's the baby she could have had if only Father didn't do what he did… It's not me. In her eyes and mind, I will always be the monster who takes the form of her baby. For her… Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern had long died inside her womb. For her… I don't exist. For her I'm just a monster." Jonathan can hear that bigger part of himself screaming at him to stop spouting these words that makes him sound so vulnerable… so weak… so human. That demon part of him claws from the very depths of his soul. But it's already too late. He has already poured it all out. His blood… no matter how much demon blood it contains… It cannot erase the fact that he is still part human, part angel, part Shadowhunter. The demon ichor that burns his skin during battles with demons proves that.

Jonathan fails to notice that his muscles have become tensed. His hands are clasped together between his parted knees and his dark eyes glare intensely at nothing in particular. "Father is the only one that made me feel I do exist…" He feels Clary move from behind him. He almost moves to grab for a weapon when she has flung herself towards him. But he freezes when he realizes what she is doing. She is pressed up against his hard back. He feels like he's been living in an ice castle for all of his life because he seems to be drowning in her warmth right now and this warmth of hers melts him.

He doesn't dare to move. For each second that passes by, that booming voice of the demon inside him seems to grow more distant until all he can register in his mind is her sweet warmth. He can feel her heart beating loudly in her chest. Her arms are wrapped around his torso. Her hands are grasping the thin fabric of the front of his shirt. He waits for her to say something. He waits for her to pull away but long minutes seem to pass by but neither of them makes a move. He wonders if he should disengage himself from her but just imagining her pulling away from him now makes his stomach drop.

Jonathan feels himself relax and Clary tightens her hold around him. He thinks that this feeling she makes him feel is amazing. He shouldn't allow himself to be this vulnerable but he can't help it. He wants to allow himself this one moment with his sister.

Clary can't really explain why she's embracing Jonathan. She thinks of all the terrible things he has done but the thoughts just made her hold him tighter. She knows that he didn't choose to be evil. Right now she has this strong urge to save him from his own darkness. She thinks that maybe it's not yet too late. Maybe she can still have her brother… She knows that he is still inside Jonathan. It's not yet too late… She wants to save her brother.

Jonathan doesn't know how long they were sitting like that. But as soon as Clary falls asleep, he makes his move to lay her down the bed. He tucks her in gently with an unreadable expression on his face. After he's done, he stares at her sleeping form for a long while before he leaves her to sleep peacefully.

He exits the room and leans on the closed door for a moment. He stares at the darkness around him. The shadows seem to talk to him… They seem to mock him; saying how weak he is for letting someone in. He places a hand to cover his eyes. It makes him look like he's enduring a headache. A smile etches itself on his face.

"Stupid sister…"

He whispers in the darkness. He lets his hand fall to his side. His face void of all emotions again. He gets off of the door and starts walking towards who knows where. He might look like nothing happened inside his room. But inside him, he knows that he will never get rid of that moment… That moment when he felt like he was human.

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><p>Thanks for reading! Please do leave some reviews ^_^<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Notes: **I said that "Human" was just a oneshot but I had several ideas for more Jonathan fanfics and they all had that 'Jonathan seeking for connection and actually wanting to be more humane and to be loved by others' theme. So I decided to extend this fic to a series of oneshots which I must say are not entirely related to each other ^_^ I hope you guys will enjoy it. This second one involves Jocelyn and Jonathan. The timeline is set in either CoLS or CoHF.

**Disclaimer: **Mortal Instruments and Infernal Devices series and their characters solely belong to Cassandra Clare.

**Summary:** She was first revolted at the sight of him. He hated her for that. She now wanted to care for him. He acted like it was too late. But all he really yearned for all those years was _his mother_.

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><p><strong>Mother<strong>

A tall broad-shouldered young man moved fluidly among the throngs of people flooding the busy streets. He decided to stop in front of an unsuspecting lamp post and proceeded to rest his back on it. He dug his hands– or hand since his supposed to be right hand was just a stump at the moment– into the pockets of his jacket. He observed the traffic, the busy and noisy people, and the bright lights of New York City with his fathomless black eyes. He found it very convenient to be a member of the Shadow World. He didn't really feel even a slightest bit of desire to interact with mundanes who he thought were so naïve and useless anyway.

An image of a red haired woman in her mid-thirties invaded his mind. He couldn't help it but to smile wickedly to himself as his shoulders shook a little when a short chuckle escaped his lips. He found it funny. That woman. That woman with flaming red hair. That red-haired woman with very green eyes which reflected so much horror when they gaze upon him. Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern believed that the horrified look he just saw on his mother's face was the most fulfilling thing ever. Her fear and horror just crossed the short distance between them without any resistance and seeped into his very bones. He never thought someone could actually feel and express that _much_ horror just upon seeing another person.

The way she had paled; the whiteness of her skin could rival of that of a ghost. The way her eyes looked glassy with tears. The way she trembled on her unsteady legs. Jonathan shook his head in a way that seemed like he was showing his disapproval of something. "What was she thinking? I bet she believed that I would just jump on her and rip her heart out with my non-existent demonic claws…" Jonathan couldn't help it but to replay in his head his encounter with Jocelyn Fairchild, his biological mother, hours ago. His mind couldn't get over her frightened face.

He was quite convinced that whatever morbid picture his head was conjuring up at the moment regarding what he really wanted to do to his mother was not very far from the truth. Oh yes, _he hated her_. He hated her for hating him. All she felt from that first moment she held him in her arms when he was just an infant was horror and revulsion. He figured he should simply show her his gratitude. Why should he waste any effort on loving a mother who never wanted to care for him or love him? He told himself he could care less about love. But he just couldn't stand the thought of that woman hating him. After she put a hand on creating him… It wasn't his fault that his father had the most revolting ideas… That his father wanted to experiment on his own child. That his father carelessly and thoughtlessly made his son _a monster_.

Honestly, Jonathan blamed a lot of things to Jocelyn. The mother who never wanted him. She let him live… She let him become what he was. She didn't do anything and didn't really care to do anything to stop him from what he was becoming. She probably believed that it was not her responsibility… That he was not a burden for her to bear. Jocelyn was the monster to him. Surely what kind of mother could hate her own child that much when he had not done anything to harm her back then? He kind of believed that no matter what one's true nature was, if others did love you then it wouldn't matter to them what you were. He killed demons even hated them despite his knowledge that the Greater Demon, Lilith, was the one who gave her blood in order to create him. But he had to admit that the Greater Demon was more of a mother to him than Jocelyn was.

Jonathan couldn't help it but to be amused of his own insights. A Shadownhunter who wanted the death of her own child and a supposed to be a heartless and ruthless demon that cared for him like he was a fragile vase that could break easily. He had long accepted it. This was his true nature… There was no use trying to fight it. He was a demon. A monster. Jocelyn was not his mother. Lilith was. He told himself that it was the valid reason for Jocelyn's hatred for him. _He was not hers at all_.

After he was revived, he thought that these people currently surrounding him wanted him dead. All of them… with the exception of Jace. Clarissa, his own sister, was just tolerating his presence for the sake of the angel boy. He knew all of that. He had always been gifted on reading the people around him. He started to believe that he didn't really belong to the Shadowhunter world. They all saw him as a demon. They all wanted him to be one. So why try to pretend that you were like them? They wanted a monster. He would give them what they want. He would feed from their fears just like how a demon would.

The horrified face of his real mother flashed in his mind again. This time Jonathan felt something else inside of him besides anger. That feeling he rarely encountered. That feeling that squeezed his black heart ever so slightly. He couldn't help it but to make an annoyed face. He hated it when he feels that. It made him feel so… so weak…

"_Y-You… Y-You… J-Jonathan… M-My… My s-so…N-No…"_

Her soft melodic voice sounded so good in his ears. His mother sounded perfect except that her voice was tainted with fear towards him. That rare feeling inside Jonathan grew a little bit more as Jocelyn's words played over and over in his head. That feeling… That pathetic and sad feeling that poisoned his heart. He hated that even if he felt ecstatic watching his mother's horrified and pained face there was this small… This tiny part in him that should have long disintegrated in the black depths of his soul that felt sad about it. About how Jocelyn could not… and would never see and treat him as her son. That longing he knew he had always felt for her but always pushed to a dark corner of his mind. How Clarissa would never wanted him as her older brother. He wanted connection to them… His only family… But they all longed to bury him even before he could even utter his first word. They didn't want him to exist. Surely Jocelyn wanted her son… Clarissa wanted her older brother… But the man they held in their hearts was not him and would never be him. They tried to pretend that he didn't exist and that he was just some nightmare they were both trying to get rid of.

Jonathan smiled to himself. They could try everything just to have him dead in their minds. But he swore to do everything as well to haunt them in every single waking moment of their lives. He would be the nightmare to them. The nightmare they wanted him to be. The nightmare they created. They were the ones who pushed him to become what he was… And to even become worse of what he was before. They completely pushed him off of the edge and let him fall into a never-ending dark pit. He didn't need to redeem himself in their eyes. They already robbed him off of that chance the very moment he was born and that his mother wanted absolutely nothing to do with him.

He pushed himself off of the lamppost and continued his walk. The wind blew harshly at him, making his fair almost white hair fall over his black orbs. He soon blended into the darkness of the night just like how a demon could.

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><p>"What is it, Mother? Surely you didn't just sneak out of here just to stare at me." Jonathan rested his back against the trunk of a huge tree standing just across from Lucian Graymark's house. He returned for his 'younger siblings' who stayed for a little bit in the house. He had no plans to pick them up for he didn't want to risk seeing Jocelyn again but Jace probably forgot about the time. So he decided to go back for them and here he was.<p>

Jocelyn stood a good six feet away from him and was marveling at the fact how Jonathan looked so much like Valentine Morgenstern, his father and the man she once loved. It was just the sharp planes of Jonathan's features were softer than Valentine's. Jocelyn hated to admit it but for some reason she was actually looking for whatever her son got from her. Maybe the shape of his eyes or even the curve of his lips. For almost eighteen years… She never imagined or even dreamed of seeing him again. She didn't even know if she really wanted to. But he just appeared before her earlier… And he was with Clary, her precious daughter. Clary was his younger sister and seeing them standing a little bit too closely a while ago broke something inside her.

She remembered what Luke told her earlier when she was trying her best to calm down after her short encounter with her son. He said that it might be a chance for her to be a mother to Jonathan whether it was good or bad he couldn't really tell. But he stated that if someone could probably sway the mindset of Jonathan at the moment… It should be Jocelyn, his mother. _"He has some part of you in him… He is also human, Jocelyn… I can't be sure but Jonathan… your Jonathan might just be seeking for a connection."_

"J-Jonathan… I… I-I… I-I'm sorry…"

The fair-haired lad just stared at the woman before him. He wondered what was really going on in Jocelyn's head right now. He was confused… actually very confused but his features would never show that. He just stood there trying to focus his eyes on something else rather than on the conflicted look on his mother's face. But his black eyes kept on trailing back on her image. How could he avert his eyes from her when she was standing out too much in their dull surroundings with that bright red hair of hers, that pure green eyes, even her clothes looked a little too bright for him to appreciate.

The woman took a step closer to him and Jonathan felt his legs twitched… He wanted to take a step back so badly but of course he couldn't do that. He was leaning back against a tree at the first place. He schooled his features to an impassive look. He told himself that he shouldn't show even a slightest hint to this woman that she actually had the ability to unnerve him.

"I don't know what you are talking about," he intentionally let her see him looking at something else rather than her to show that he was not interested to whatever she had to say. There was a deafening silence that fell upon them. Only the rustles of leaves and the harsh blowing of the wind stained that silence.

"I'm sorry I… I couldn't save you from Va– your father… I had no idea what h-he was doing. I had no c-clue… U-Until you were b-born… P-Perhaps I… I-I… I could have tried to save you… c-cure you…" Jonathan flinched a little at her words. Why was she saying these things now? "B-But I… A-All I felt that time w-was… I was tricked… I c-couldn't l-love you b-because I-I…" The faired haired boy finally looked up after Jocelyn's voice finally cracked like a piece of ceramic and he saw tears streaming down her face.

There was _that feeling_ again… and he hated it.

Jocelyn felt like she was choking. She felt so… _guilty_. She felt partly responsible for what her son had become… And the worst part was she knew she never cared what he would become. She actually took comfort at the thought that he died in that demonic fire and she knew it was wrong of her to feel that way. She wondered why it had to come down to all of this just for her to see that she had done her fair share of mistakes.

She took a huge mouthful of air and the next thing Jonathan knew, Jocelyn was right in front of him and she was cupping his face in her cold trembling hands. It was suddenly too hard for him to breathe. She was looking deeply… too deeply into his eyes that he actually felt _afraid_ that she might be able to see that weak part inside of him. "J-Jonathan… I… I-I'm y-your mother…" Jocelyn said it like the boy in front of her had no idea that she was indeed his mother.

Jonathan felt his own lips tremble for a moment… Words were dying to spill out from his mouth but he was too afraid to let them out because he was not even sure if he would like them. He could feel his body shaking ever so slightly he was torn between shoving this woman away from him and embracing her. He felt her fingers moved to outline his thick eyebrows. Her hand felt very warm when she pushed some of his hair out of his handsome face. His heart… His dark black heart was pounding so hard in his ribcage. Something was clawing at him from the inside and it made him ache all over. He gritted his teeth.

"Don't touch me, woman." He hissed out as he glared at Jocelyn. He could feel that red anger clouding his mind. But she didn't look threatened. It was almost as if she expected him to say that but even so her eyes looked sadder than before. He felt a tight knot inside him coil to the point of breaking and he was already unsure of what he was about to do next.

"Don't… Don't touch me," he said a little more firmly and this time Jocelyn dropped her hands to her sides. She took a step back and he watched her swallow nervously.

"Listen, _Mother_…" He sounded like he was mocking her. His voice was so smooth and so soft like it was velvet. "I understand not a single word you were saying to me… I refuse to understand." He pushed himself off of the tree and started to walk away. His steps were obviously hurried and unsteady. He suddenly stopped abruptly. He knew she was still standing on that same spot where he left her. He craned his neck to the side and Jocelyn could see half of his face. There was a curling rune running up the side of his left jaw.

_"I'm not your son, Jocelyn Fairchild."_

She had never heard words more bitter than those.

And she had never heard words that held so much coldness and pain in them.

Jocelyn couldn't do anything but watch her son walk away from her and into the darkness.

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><p>He didn't expect for them to be here. He had no desire to ever fight alongside with these people… and a bunch of Downworlders. The stench of the three werewolves filled the battlefield and Jonathan didn't try to hide his disgust. He saw that tall… too sparkly warlock fighting back to back with <em>that<em>… that homosexual Lightwood boy. And the way Isabelle Lightwood's crystal blue eyes checked up on that quite invincible Daylighter was just too hard for him stomach. Jonathan plunged his seraph blade into a random demon wishing he could just sink the very blade he was holding on one of his so called "allies". He was confident enough that he could handle this horde of demons with just Jace… and his sister, Clarissa. But his ever stupid sister just had to call them for help.

The battle was soon over and everyone was trying to recover from the adrenaline rush and exhaustion. Jonathan chose to stay in a dark corner while the others heal themselves and check up on each other. He could feel his little brother think about his welfare at some point but he quickly willed the angel boy not to search for him.

"Mother!" His deep black eyes snapped up to see Clary run up to her mother. He quickly saw Jocelyn standing quite far from her. The woman was inspecting a convulsing demon when she heard her daughter's cry. She quickly abandoned the creature to see her daughter. But that was a very awful mistake on her part.

It was like in slow motion. Like some sick old movie with sepia tone and the events were unfolding painfully slow for him. His eyes quickly registered a huge hulking demon lurking in the shadows at the dark hollow ceilings of the unconsecrated building they were in. And it just got worse when the demon which was supposed to be lying lifeless behind Jocelyn sprung up to life with a loud growl. The red haired woman snapped back at the demon. But it moved too fast for her to react. It swiped at her with its clawed and thick hand and managed to knock out the seraph blade in her hand.

He heard distant voices cried out for her.

He even heard _a little part of him_ cried for her as well.

But then he felt his legs moved so fast he couldn't really entirely feel them. He was like an arrow darting through the space with unforgiving grace. The demon in front of Jocelyn raised both its menacing slimy limbs to strike at her the second time. But Jonathan was already there cutting through the demon. He watched it dissolved into nothingness with uncaring eyes. He felt the demon from the ceiling finally jump down and landed a few feet behind him but Jace was already on it a heartbeat later.

There was a very painful burning Jonathan was feeling on his left upper arm and his hold on his seraph blade slackened a little. The demon had injured him and he could see a bloody stinger protruding from his torn gear. His whole body was weakening more in each passing second. Damn it. He thought. He didn't want these people to see him fall on his knees. He didn't want to look vulnerable to them. But his knees were already threatening to give away. "Jonathan! Jonathan!" It was Jocelyn.

He didn't feel it when he fell on his knees but he felt it when she pulled him to rest on her comforting warm lap. He didn't want to see her face so he simply closed them tightly. "S-Sebastian?" Clary slumped down right next to his left side and he felt her check on his injury. "Sebastian!" She shook him none too gently but he almost laughed when he heard the unmistakable tinge of worry in her voice. He dared to open his eyes… Just to glare at the looming figure of the warlock on his incapacitated body.

"He'll be fine…" Magnus Bane assured them. He felt so suspicious of the warlock that when Magnus reached out to pluck the stinger out of his wound, Jonathan almost found the strength to jump up and flung himself at the Downworlder… But his body betrayed him.

Darkness crept into his vision. "Too much for having demon blood running in my veins… I couldn't even stand little of their poison," Jonathan thought gravely. His eyes started to become blurry but before he completely slipped into a peaceful darkness. His gaze focused once on the worried look on his mother's face.

Even if his body was rejecting it mostly, he felt a warm feeling crept inside him. With that, he closed his eyes.

* * *

><p>When he opened those fathomless orbs of his again, he was in an unfamiliar plain-looking room and a warm hand was clasping his. He looked down to see red tresses adorning the white blanket draped on his once resting form. He just stared at her. He watched her back rise and fall steadily as she breathed. Her lips were slightly parted as she slept. He was fascinated by the little signs of age on her beautiful kind face. He could have stared at her for hours no one could really tell. But when she finally stirred and woke up. He wanted to snatch his hand out of hers and even questioned himself why he didn't earlier when she was still asleep. Her very green eyes landed on him.<p>

She smiled. Her smile was filled with so much relief and… happiness.

Jonathan figured then that he didn't want to let go of his mother's hand again.

* * *

><p>Give poor J.C. Morgenstern some love please and review ^_^ I believe that no fan of TMI series should really and completely hate him. I just hope many share my view on this complex character. I don't know… I just feel like it's kind of wrong when I see someone hate him so much. It's just sad…<p>

Anyway thank you very much for reading. Please do review~!


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